Together Again
by Twochicks
Summary: My take on what happens at the end of Episode 5. Fluff, banter and some angst.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Since my obsession with 'Our Girl' is far from over, I thought I'd give this writing malarkey another shot. Thanks to those who reviewed 'Together at Christmas.' Hope you enjoy this one.**

**Characters and certain dialogue are the property of Tony Grounds and the BBC. Apologies to them again for using and abusing some lines. **

James' Family Home - Bath - Early October 2014

Captain Charles James opened the front door and his heart skipped a beat. Private Molly Dawes was stood on the door step, dressed in casual clothes; her hands in her pockets and an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She was a little later than she'd said, but it didn't matter, she'd come back to him just as she'd promised.

"Missed me?" she said, smiling broadly.

He didn't trust himself to speak, but returned her smile and allowed himself a little laugh. She was more beautiful than he remembered, radiant even. He opened the door wide and nodded to her to enter. She ducked under his arm and walked into the hallway. She turned back to look at him, still smiling. He was rooted to the spot, standing there, just drinking her in. He'd been waiting for this moment for what seemed like forever and now that she was finally here, he felt a rush of pure, unadulterated joy run through him. He allowed the front door to swing shut behind him. She giggled nervously as he closed the gap between them. He took her in his arms and kissed her.

"I guess that's a yes then," she said breathlessly, when he eventually released her.

His eyes ran over her face. "Christ Molly you have no idea," he spoke at last, his voice thick with suppressed emotion.

He took her bag and placed it down on the floor by the stairs. Holding her hand, he led her down the corridor into the kitchen at the back of the house. He gestured for her to sit down at the island unit and she took off her hat and coat, placing them beside her.

"Tea?" he asked. She nodded and he busied himself making her a cup, his back to her. She could tell he was shaking a little and she slid off the stool and went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You ok?" she murmured, leaning her head against his back. His breathing was ragged; he was trying to compose himself.

He turned in her direction, his head lowered. She noticed a single tear roll silently down his cheek.

"Charles?" she questioned, concern etched in her voice, as she reached up to brush the tear away. He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. "I am now Molly," he answered at last and took her in his arms again, holding her, as if he would never, ever let her go.

When they parted eventually, he sat her back down on the stool and finished making the tea. He gave it to her and sat beside her; his eyes never leaving her face. "So how's it been?" she asked, finding it hard to cope with the lack of conversation.

"Hell Molly, if you must know," he half-laughed, but they both knew there was a ring of truth in what he'd said.

"You told me to go," she retorted, relieved though that his mood was lifting. She hated the thought that he'd been unhappy.

"Yeah, what on earth was I thinking?" he mused, shaking his head. "You finished?" He was looking at her intently now and she thought she could see that familiar look in his eyes. The look that made her insides melt. He took the cup from her and set it down on the work top.

"I see you're still limping, Charles," she said, "which is a shame because I was gonna make it up to you...for my absence an' that...but I'm not sure you're up to it," she teased.

He shook his head laughing, "Well you'll never know unless you try me." He pulled her to her feet and she picked up her coat and hat. Holding her by the hand, he began to guide her out of the kitchen, back along the hallway to the stairs.

"I take it your parents are out Charles?"

"Yes Molls. Dad's working up in London and Mum's made herself scarce. She won't be back till late. She knew you'd be coming," he said, as they climbed the stairs hand in hand.

"Really?" She couldn't resist giggling, "Well, I guess that depends on your performance." He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't think of a suitable retort. She'd floored him. He felt himself blush.

They reached the first floor and continued to the end of the landing. He opened the door to his bedroom and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them. She stepped further into the room and laid her coat and hat down on a sofa near his bed. She turned to look at him. He hadn't followed her; he was still stood by the door, his arm resting against it. He was watching her.

The anticipation was driving her crazy. It had been three, long months and her whole body was screaming out for him to touch her. In Afghan, during the daytime, she'd buried all thoughts of him holding her, caressing her, kissing her. It had been so hard but she'd been there to do a job and, to coin his bleedin' catch phrase, she'd 'needed to focus'. At night though, she'd allowed herself to think of him; the things he could do to her and how he made her feel. He had infiltrated her dreams over and over again.

She began to physically quiver with need for him.

Why was he waiting out? She knew he wanted her; she could see it in his eyes.

She couldn't bare it any longer. She closed the gap between them and broke the silence.

"Charles, I love you, I've missed you, I need you please," she pleaded, her voice a soft whisper.

He rolled his tongue along his upper lip and she moaned softly. His eyes were boring into hers. He reached out and took her face in his hands. He ran his thumb along her mouth, bent his head and began to kiss her, tenderly at first. Her lips were soft and pliant beneath his. He was taking his time, enjoying the taste of her again. She wrapped her arms around him; her fingers entwined in the curls at the nape of his neck. She pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed, all the while his mouth never leaving hers. "Show me how much Molly," he said huskily, as he laid her down gently.


	2. Chapter 2

Same day - 5pm

They lay facing each other smiling; delighting in being together again after three months apart. He reached out and stroked her face with his fingers. She propped herself up on her elbow; her hand beginning to trace patterns on his chest. Her eyes were drawn to the scar on his stomach. A painful reminder of that horrific day when she'd battled to save him on the bridge, but a part of him now nonetheless. She leaned in, planting a trail of sweet kisses along it and she heard him groan quietly.

"So in your professional opinion was I up to it Dawes?" His voice a soft murmur. She lifted her head to look at him. "Hmm I think so Boss, but we might gonna have to do it all over again, just so I'm sure," she smirked. He shook his head, laughing. "You're insatiable at times Dawesy," he grinned, flipping her over, so that she was under him. "But I wouldn't want you any other way," he continued as he bent his head to kiss her all over again...

They were nestled together, their arms and legs entwined. "Come on Molls, as much as I'd like to, we can't stay in bed all evening," he kissed the tip of her nose and got out of bed. She sat herself upright. Hugging the duvet around her, she admired the view. He was perfection on a plate.

"Why Charles?" she couldn't help but pout. She was miffed that he'd left her. Right now, in bed, with him was the only place she wanted to be.

"Because I've booked us a table at Cloisters," he said, half regretting the idea, but he supposed they should go. He hadn't eaten all day, more out of nerves than anything else, and he was hungry. He continued, "and we both need to shower and dress." He tugged the duvet from her grip and pulled her out of bed, his eyes running the length of her, "because right now Dawesy, you look thoroughly fucked."

"Oi! Whose fault is that Bossman?" she reached for a pillow behind her and whacked him with it.

He picked her up, slung her effortlessly over his shoulder and carried her to the shower, "mine, all mine," he laughed.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, in her underwear, towel-drying her hair. Her face illuminated by the bedside lamp. He wandered in from the en-suite, a towel wrapped around his waist and stopped in his tracks. His heart missed a beat yet again, as he took in her beauty. His thoughts returned to the FOB and the med tent, the morning he'd told her he'd adore her for always and the morning she'd promised she'd come back to him. He'd come so close to kissing her then; his heart almost over-ruling his head for once. Then Kinders had called his name bringing him back to reality. He'd jumped right back into CO mode and she'd looked bereft as he'd left her. He'd berated himself for it later.

"There's only one problem with us going out to eat Boss," Molly interrupted his thoughts.

"What's that then Dawesy, aside from the obvious?" He sat down next to her on the bed; planting a light kiss on her shoulder, moving her hair to one side and nuzzling her neck, concentrating on a sensitive spot. He heard her gasp with pleasure.

She really didn't want to go and he really wasn't motivating her to get ready - especially when he was doing that - right there... "Well that restaurant's well nice an' that but I've nothing to wear," she whispered a protest.

He knew he had to drag himself away, otherwise they'd be eating beans on toast much, much later. "That's where you're wrong Miss Dawes." He got to his feet and walked to the wardrobe.

Shit - did he have to move away right now?

He pulled out a black dress and laid it down on the bed beside her. She touched the sheer lace sleeves and took in the gentle scoop neckline and nipped in waist. It was stunning - she noticed the label - and expensive.

"You bought this for me?"

"Yes."

He was almost forgiven for making the dinner reservation.

She looked up at him coyly, from beneath her dark lashes, "but how did you know my size Charles James?"

"Molly Dawes, I've committed your curves to memory for the last three months and besides, your mum and nan just may have helped." He waited for her reaction, while her brain worked overtime. He didn't have to wait very long.

Her green eyes widened.

Her face flushed.

Her jaw dropped.

And he couldn't help but grin at the look on her face. She was speechless. Oh how the tables were turned! He was sooo going to enjoy this!

"Please tell me you didn't meet them without me? You didn't go shopping ...with them ...for me?" She was squirming inside and he knew it.

"Yes Molls and let's just say lunch was really interesting and informative! I reckon there's not much I don't know about you now," he laughed out loud, revelling in HER discomfort for once.

"How? Where? When?"

"Molls, you gave me your mum's number just in case, remember?"

She shook her head, inwardly cursing the day she'd done that.

"I rang her. We met up in London, two weeks ago."

More silence. She was processing this development.

Then, "Shit and you still love me?" her tone incredulous.

"Yes, more than ever," he pulled her up and kissed her.

"But they've not put you off?"

"No Molls. Why would they? They're lovely and it did me the world of good. I felt closer to you because I couldn't understand a word they were saying half the time." He couldn't help himself.

She stood there, open mouthed but no words came out. Again. He was grinning broadly, loving it.

"Still language is no barrier, I had them eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the day." He paused. Then continued, "Just never had you down as a blonde though." The expression on her face was priceless and he went in for the kill. "Got to hand it to you though Molls - novel way of ending up in an army recruitment office!"

To say she was horrified was an understatement. She slumped back down on the bed, covering her head in her hands. "Shit. I'll kill 'em," she almost cried in frustration.

He knelt in front of her and moved her hands away from her face.

"You're really enjoying this aren't you?" she seethed.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Bastard!" she pushed him away.

"Molly, I was gonna meet them sooner or later."

She wouldn't look at him.

"Come on Molls. You can't blame them for filling me in a bit. You must know how they love to talk - it clearly runs in the family!"

She could have slapped him for that one, but he was out of her reach. She glared at him instead.

"Charles, I just wish..." He silenced her with a kiss and to her disgust, she found herself kissing him back...

"Ok smart arse. What about this restaurant? I can't wear my trainers Captain James." She was relenting.

"No, but you can wear these Private Dawes." He threw her a box and she opened it up to find a pair of high heels. They were gorgeous. A black clutch followed suit.

"You've thought of everything haven't you Charles." Her mood changed in an instant. She was genuinely touched.

"Molls, if I can plan dawn raids on the Taliban, I can sort out some glad rags for my girl." He handed her the dress. "Come on Dawesy. Double away and put it on."

She didn't move, she just held the dress to her.

"Molls?" He lifted her chin. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Molly, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's gorgeous. You're gorgeous. Bleedin' infuriating mind, but gorgeous. Oh and amazing...I'm not sure how I got this lucky."

He gathered her into his arms. "Ditto," he whispered.

7.45pm.

Charles finished buttoning up his shirt and glanced over at Molly. She couldn't pull up the zip on her dress. He stepped behind her and pulled her close; one arm snaking around her waist, the other sliding in under the dress. She automatically leaned back into him, her head against his shoulder. His hand cupped a breast and his fingers began to toy with her nipple teasing it into a hard peak. She bit her lip to stifle a moan. "Charles, we'll never make it to the restaurant if you keep that up."

She heard him exhale, as she reluctantly wriggled out of his arms. "Sorry Molls, you're just too hard to resist," he laughed. "Come here, I'll behave I promise." He pulled her back towards him, moved her hair to one side and did up the zip.

Turning her round to face him, his eyes roamed over her taking everything in. The dress fit perfectly: hugging her breasts; nipping in to reveal her slender waist and flaring out gracefully over her hips. Her chestnut brown hair tumbled in waves past her shoulders. She'd kept her make-up to a minimum; her skin still sun-kissed from being on tour. Her green eyes were sparkling and her lips ruby-red. He had to suppress the urge to kiss them, contenting himself with kissing her forehead instead.

"You look beautiful," he said, breathing in the scent of her.

She cast her eyes over him. He was impossibly handsome.

"Thanks Boss. You scrub up well yourself," she giggled at her understatement.

He shook his head slightly, half laughing and motioned for them to go. He took hold of her hand and guided her downstairs out of the house, closing the front door behind them. They walked together hand in hand to the restaurant.


	3. Chapter 3

**Many thanks for your lovely reviews. Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter.**

Cloisters - Bath - 8.30pm

They were seated at the same table they'd had on their first date. The first time he'd told her he loved her. Molly sat sipping her wine, browsing the menu. Charles had already chosen his starter and main, and was waiting for Molly. This time he knew better than to ask if she wanted him to choose for her. He remembered how she'd seemed put out before and how he'd momentarily thought he'd fucked the whole thing up. He smirked and shook his head at the memory.

"What are you thinking about Charles?" Molly asked, curious.

He took her hands in his and began to stroke them. "Our first date. When I asked you if you wanted me to choose for you."

"What about it?" She seemed confused.

"Well..." he bit his lip. "Let's just say I won't be doing that again in a hurry," he grinned.

"Why Charles?"

"If looks could kill Molls, if looks could kill," he laughed.

"What look?" She wasn't laughing.

"This one. Right here." He pointed to her face.

She punched his arm and started to giggle, "Oh yeah I remember."

He caught her hand in his and squeezed it gently. His deep brown eyes were gazing into hers. "God I've missed this. I've missed us. Just being with you, talking to you, laughing with you. I love you Molly." He leaned in to kiss her and noticed the waitress out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't going to wait out this time and motioned to the waitress to return later. He pressed his lips to Molly's mouth and lingered awhile, coaxing her lips apart. They both forget where they were briefly.

"Charles behave," Molly pulled back giggling and returned her gaze to the menu.

Charles sat drumming his fingers on the table and cleared his throat. "Just trying to make up for lost time Molly," he said.

"How's Sam? she asked, changing the subject. She put the menu down and focused on Charles.

"He's good, great in fact. Like I said in my emails - we've been spending a lot of time together. He remembers you from the hospital," Charles paused, then continued, "I've told him about you Molly. He wants to meet you properly." He was looking at her directly, nervously awaiting her reaction. He needn't have worried. She smiled, "I'd like that Charles."

"You sure Molls?"

She sought to re-assure him, "Charles, if he's anything like you, he'll be easy to love."

The waitress returned and took their order.

"So you saw Bashira?" It was Charles' turn to change the subject and he caught her off guard.

"What? You know about that? Who told you, Qaseem?"

"No Molly, you just did," he smiled, "and it was obvious anyway reading between the lines in your letters.

"You're not angry?" she asked.

"No Molly, not angry, I knew you'd try to see her if you could. Since when have you ever listened to anything I've said?"

They both laughed.

"I was shit scared if I'm honest. Just had to hope Lady Luck was still smiling on us." He took her hand in his again, "I lived for your emails and I can't tell you how relieved I was when you phoned me from Brize Norton to tell me you were home safe. And when you turned up here today. Like I said, it's been hard at times."

"I'm sorry Charles," she reached for his hand, entwining her fingers through his.

"Don't be Molly. It's just weird, being the one left behind. Guess I know how Rebecca felt now. Anyway you needed to go, to be brilliant and you were.." he paused, then continued "You are." He was looking at her with such devotion that she was close to tears. "I'd never hold you back Molly and I wouldn't ever want to change you. I want you to know that. Just don't go away... like overseas away, for a while please," he half-laughed at his contradictions.

"I won't, I promise," she whispered, clearing her throat, "it was hard for me too." She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and he tilted his head towards her and kissed her lips gently.

"So how was it, seeing Bashira?" he asked, idly rubbing the palm of her hand with his thumb.

"I couldn't see her for long but it was amazing. She's happy Charles and she's safe. We managed to hug an' that and even had a quick game of Sang Chill Bazi. I wasn't any better, she still beat me," she smiled. "We're gonna write to each other. I needed to see her Charles, to make sure she's all right. I think I got some kind of closure."

"I know Molls, just no more heroics for a little while, please," Charles urged.

"Yes Boss. I mean no Boss," she dropped her gaze to their hands, "Whatever!" They laughed again.

The waitress returned with their starters. Molly hadn't realised how hungry she was and tucked in with relish.

"I take it that's better than the scoff at Bastion Molls," Charles winked, nodding at her plate.

She smiled, "Do I really need to answer that Boss?"

He laughed.

"Now, Molly, about your deployment money,"

This time she nearly choked on a mouthful. "Qaseem?" she sighed.

He nodded, "Qaseem... Look Molls I'll help out too."

She opened her mouth to protest but he put his fingers to her lips. "No Molls, you're not talking your way out of this one. You're not giving all your money to Qaseem for Bashira. I'm giving half. I want to support Bashira too."

She could see it was pointless to argue. For once, she let him win. "Ok Charles, if you're sure."

"Good. Now Molls, is there anything else you haven't told me?"

"No Charles," she said honestly.

They finished their first course and the waitress brought them their second.

"Charles, have you decided what you're gonna do?"

"No Molly, like I said in my letter, there's a couple of things in the pipeline but I don't have to make my mind up just yet. In any case, I want to prioritise other stuff in my life right now," he was looking directly at her and she felt her stomach flip.

"But you're not leaving the army Boss?" she almost pleaded.

"No Molls. But I'm not your boss anymore. He leaned across the table, "Well, maybe apart from in the bedroom," he sniggered.

"Oi!" She poked her tongue out at him for that.

They talked for ages, until they were the only ones left in the restaurant.

"Come on Molls, we'd better go," he said at last. He paid the bill and slipped his jacket around her shoulders, pausing to plant a kiss on her forehead. They strolled back to the house, his arm around her, keeping her close. They stopped at the front step and he found the door key and put it in the lock.

"Charles?" she put her hand on his arm. "You sure it's ok for me to stay with you tonight? Because..."

He turned around to face her, "Why? What were you planning on doing Molls? Booking into a Travelodge at this time of night?"

"No. I mean with you, in your room, an' that."

"You mean in my bed Molls? Isn't it a little late to be going all virginal on me? Especially after this afternoon's performance and encore!" He teased.

She shook her head in frustration.

"Don't you want to sleep with me Molly?" He leaned in to nuzzle her neck and she moaned softly.

"You know I do," she sighed breathlessly, his lips so tantalisingly close to hers.

_Focus Dawesy _"It's just that - your parents they'll be home now... It's a different ball-bag with them being at home... What will they think?" She managed to force the words out.

He stopped kissing her neck and looked at her, bewildered, "that I'm a normal warm-blooded male, with a really HOT girlfriend that I'm crazy in love with, who I haven't seen for three months AND that I want to shag senseless?" He grinned at her.

"Charles!" She felt herself blush bright red and took a step back.

"Ok, they probably wouldn't think quite in those terms but the sentiment would be the same."

"Charles James! Will they mind me sharing your room? Should I sleep in a spare one?" she persisted.

"Molls!" He pulled her close again. "I'm sorry, phone sex just doesn't cut it for me, especially when I can have the real deal," he laughed shamelessly, cupping a breast in his hand. He toyed with her nipple through the material of her dress, as if to prove a point.

"Stop! This isn't fuckin' funny," she was indignant now. He, on the other hand, was enjoying her frustration.

She knocked his hand away and retreated down the front steps exasperated. He took pity on her. "No Molly, they won't mind at all. In fact, they'd think something was up if you didn't share my bed," his voice had softened. "Molls this is 2014 not 1914," he smiled.

"Now where have I heard that before," she muttered, a half smile forming on her lips. "Ok, if you're sure."

"Good. Now get back here and kiss me," he ordered...

He opened the door and they walked into the dimly lit hallway. The house was silent and, apart from the hallway, in darkness. He removed his jacket from her shoulders and hung it up. "Do you want anything to drink Molls?" he asked, though giving her a drink wasn't quite what he had in mind. He was looking her up and down, his eyes full of lust. She shook her head, smiling, and they walked upstairs, side by side, holding hands.

Having washed and cleaned her teeth, Molly climbed into bed pulling the duvet around her. Charles disappeared into the en-suite, returning minutes later only to find Molly asleep, her hair splayed out across a pillow. He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck; it was his turn to feel frustrated. He sat on the bed and leaned in; brushing her lips lightly with his. She didn't stir. He watched her; stroking her face gently with his fingers. 'I love you Molly Dawes," he whispered. He was so tempted to wake her, that familiar ache in his groin still there, but he decided against it. She needed to sleep and it would be selfish of him.

He got off the bed, walked back into the ensuite and had a VERY cold shower instead.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday - The Morning After

Charles lay propped up on his elbow watching Molly, while she slept. She was curled up facing him. She looked utterly adorable: her hair spilling out across her face; her long, dark lashes fanning her eyelids; her rosebud lips slightly parted as if asking to be kissed. He couldn't believe his luck. She was here with him, safe at last. And they had the rest of the weekend together. He reached out to brush the hair from her face and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

He glanced over his shoulder, registering the time on his alarm clock. 8.30am. His parents would both be up by now having breakfast in the kitchen. He couldn't wait for them to meet Molly, though he knew she was anxious. For some strange reason that he couldn't quite understand, she'd somehow got it into that beautiful head of hers that they wouldn't like her, that they'd think she wasn't good enough for him, their son. He'd laughed when she'd told him, much to her annoyance. But knowing his parents, he knew her thoughts couldn't be further from the truth.

He cast his mind back to the early summer. To the time he'd told his parents that he'd fallen head over heels in love with the medic who'd saved his life. He'd been home from hospital a few weeks when his mobile had rung late one evening. It was Molly. He'd been sat half watching TV with his parents, drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa, his mobile by his side willing it to ring. He'd been trying to reach her all day, desperate to hear her voice and finalise the plans for their first date. When it had finally rung, he'd jumped up, grabbed the phone and limped as fast as he could out into the hallway. Not bad, for a man with two war wounds. His parents had watched him go, then smiled at each other knowingly.

He'd returned to the drawing room half an hour later, a big smile on his face, and told them that he'd fallen madly in love with a most amazing girl called Molly and would they mind if he bought her home the following week while they were on holiday in Lake Garda.

His parents had known of course. It was obvious. The clues were all there; in the letters he'd written whilst on tour where he'd mention her name in passing; when he'd talk about her at every opportunity now that he was home; from the look on his face when he was clearly thinking of her and in the amount of time he spent texting and talking to her on his phone. He'd changed; his mood now upbeat, his sense of humour firmly back, despite the rumbling aches and pains he still had in his stomach and leg.

Secretly, they were delighted. This girl had saved their younger son in every possible way. He'd embarked on his fourth tour hardened by the death of one of his men and completely disillusioned by his failed marriage. Neither of his parents had wanted him to volunteer. He'd been angry, bitter and as they saw it, not in the right frame of mind. They were more worried for him than they'd ever been before and they knew Sam would miss him dreadfully. He was growing up fast and each separation from his father took its toll. Yet they'd been unable to dissuade Charles from going. He'd been insistent; his time away would allow Rebecca to sort everything out he'd said.

Despite being horrific in many ways, his fourth tour had, however, resulted in something positive - his meeting a certain Private Molly Dawes. Since he'd been home from hospital, despite his injuries, he hadn't stopped smiling and they knew it was all down to her.

And now they couldn't wait to meet the girl who'd captured his heart ...

Molly looked so peaceful. He didn't want to wake her just yet. He gently pressed his lips to hers, before sliding carefully out of the bed. He padded across his bedroom to the ensuite and ran himself a shower.

He'd only been in the shower a few minutes, before the door opened. She slid the door shut behind her and stood naked before him. The water running down her face and body.

"Morning Molls," he smiled, letting out a slow sigh, taking in the beauty before him. He felt his groin tighten.

She didn't speak, she couldn't speak. She was so anxious about meeting his parents.

She was looking at the shower floor, watching the water run away. He tilted her head up so that he could see her face. "You ok Molls?" he asked. Her face gave the game away. "What if they don't like me Charles?" she whispered, her wide eyes searching his. He sort to reassure her, pulling her close. "Molly, there's nothing not to love," he said. They stayed together in the shower and he washed her long, silken locks, delighting in such a simple pleasure.

"Come on Molls, we'd better get dressed, Mum and Dad really want to meet you," Charles murmured eventually.

She raised her head to look at him. "Charles make love to me, please," she said quietly, her eyes pleading.

"Molly, you're only delaying the inevitable," he half-laughed suspecting her game, but he knew that he wouldn't refuse her. He could never refuse her, he would want her for always. She stood on tiptoes as he lowered his head to hers; their lips almost touching. She could feel his breath on her skin.

"What am I Molls? Your own version of Dutch courage?" he whispered against her mouth and she leaned forward biting on his bottom lip gently. He heard himself groan and he began to kiss her. Kisses soft and delicious at first. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he placed his hands on her hips pulling her close. His body hard and solid against hers. Their kisses deepened, becoming punishing. She felt her legs almost give way and she staggered backwards against the shower wall. He placed his hands under her thighs lifting her up and she wrapped her legs around him; his hard on digging in to her soft skin. They stumbled out of the shower, almost breathless and he carried her to the bed...

By the time they made it downstairs, it was 10 am. Charles held her hand in his and led her towards the drawing room. His parents were relaxing on the sofas reading the morning's papers.

Molly and Charles stood in the doorway. He had his arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders and she leaned back into him, a hand on his arm, feeling his warmth.

"Mum, Dad, this is Molly," he said, as he gently pushed her into the room. Penny and Robert James looked up from the papers and then set them aside. They stood up from the sofas; their faces wreathed in smiles.

His mum's immediate thoughts were how tiny and slender Molly looked. Had this pretty, young girl really taken on the Taliban, shot an insurgent and saved their son? She looked a little vulnerable, right now, in Charles' arms. Nerves - his mum correctly guessed. Charles released his hold on Molly and his mum stepped forward, closing the gap between them. She took Molly in her arms and hugged her.

When she finally released her, they were both smiling.

"Molly, it's wonderful to meet you at last, Charles has told us so much about you," Penny said.

"You too, Mrs James, thank you for allowing me to stay," Molly replied, glancing at Charles who was grinning broadly.

"Call me Penny, please. And this is Robert, Charles' father," she turned to the man behind her, an older, slightly shorter, version of Charles. Yet, still handsome, nevertheless.

He came forward and Molly extended out her hand, but he enveloped her in his arms too.

"Molly we're delighted to have you here," Robert assured her.

Charles looked on smiling at the exchange. He could see Molly visibly relax. They sat down on the sofas. Penny and Robert on one and Molly and Charles on another. The young couple holding hands, their fingers entwined.

"We've been wanting to meet you for months," Robert continued, "to thank you in person for saving Charles' life. Words can't express how grateful we are, for what you did for Charles the day he was shot. And for what you've been doing for him since," he finished. Charles would swear later that his dad winked.

Molly smiled as she answered, " Well I was just doing my job, though I've gotta say I did have a vested interest." Charles squeezed her hand, as they all laughed.

They sat on the sofas getting acquainted, laughing and joking for much of the time. Penny revelling in the obvious affection between her son and his girl and marvelling at how close they were. Robert understanding why his son had fallen so hard for Private Dawes. She had personality in abundance; she was funny, witty, endearing, caring, streetwise and smart. And it was clear that she was more than capable at putting Charles in his place and she did so, several times. Oh and she was beautiful to boot, quite simply the perfect package.

"So when did you know you were falling for Charles, Molly?" Penny enquired after a while, much to the horror of her son. Like most mothers, she wanted to know the ins and outs of their 'story'.

Molly glanced at Charles, her eyes full of love. "Brize Norton, Day 1, BEFORE he barked at me," she giggled, ribbing Charles yet again. She leaned in to kiss him lightly on the cheek, "something about the uniform I guess."

Later that night

Molly and Charles were snuggled together in his bed. He was laying a trail of tender, sweet kisses along her collar bone and she sighed contentedly beneath him.

He stopped suddenly, lifting his head to look at her and she moaned in protest. "I take it that what you told mum, about falling for me at Brize, wasn't true Molls?" He said huskily, his eyes searching hers.

"No, not exactly, though I've gotta admit you look pretty fit in khaki and combats - first impressions an' all that - but like I said you did kind of ruin it when you began to Wally Grout." She giggled at the bemused expression on his face.

"Molls, you'd be better off talking to me in Pashto than Cockney. After four tours I might just have an inkling of what you're on about."

"Oh come on Charles that one's easy - bleedin' obvious in fact - Wally Grout - shout!" She poked her tongue out at him and sniggered," and I thought YOU were the educated one Boss."

He grabbed her wrists and held them above her head, pinning her down to the bed. "You'll pay for that Dawesy," he breathed against her mouth, as his free hand began to tickle her relentlessly.

...

A/N thanks for the reviews again. Really struggled with this chapter but I've now given up trying to improve it. Hope it's ok.


	5. Chapter 5

The following Friday - Late evening - James' family home - Bath

Molly sat upright next to Charles in his bed, her head ensconced in a book. Charles knew she wasn't reading it. She hadn't turned the page in the last 15 minutes.

"You ok Molls?" Charles dared to ask eventually. She'd arrived at his home two hours before and it was obvious something was troubling her; she'd hardly spoken to him at all in that time.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped, confirming the obvious, that she was far from ok.

He set aside the newspaper he'd been reading, turned to face Molly and took the book from her hands.

"Oi! I was reading that," she cried.

"Molly, you weren't reading it and you're not ok."

She didn't answer and she wouldn't meet his gaze; instead preferring, it seemed, to study the pattern on the duvet cover.

Charles took an educated guess. "Molly, he's seven years old, he's my son, he won't bite," he sighed heavily. He lifted her chin so that she couldn't avoid looking at him. "Don't you want to meet him now Molls?" He was afraid of her answer, but he needed to know.

"You know I do Charles, but what if he doesn't like me? Or even, worse he hates me?"

"Molly you thought my parents wouldn't like you last week, but you all got on like a house on fire," he sort to reassure her, stroking the side of her face gently with his fingers. Cupping her head in his hands, he pressed his lips gently to her forehead.

'Yes, but..."

"No buts Molly, it's a given he'll like you. He already thinks you're some kind of super hero." He planted a gentle kiss on the end of her nose.

"He does?"

"Yes Molls, you saved my life remember."

She didn't look convinced.

He knew just what she needed to take her mind off things. He pulled her down beside him and leant over her. Her breasts brushed his chest.

"More Dutch Courage Dawesy?" He murmured, his tone low and seductive. He was beginning to want her badly and he knew exactly how he wanted this conversation to end.

She felt the tension begin to ebb away. "Yes and I might gonna need more than last time Boss," she whispered, smiling for the first time that evening and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Why's that then? He laughed; she was incorrigible and he loved her for it.

"Well, the stakes are higher, it's more important that Sam likes me," she giggled, as he lowered his head to kiss her lips.

Just before their mouths met, she remembered something she'd meant to ask him the previous weekend. It had crossed her mind in the week, every time her thoughts had returned to their love-making. Her cheeks burned just thinking about it.

"Charles, your bedroom, it's sound-proofed, right?" she asked, hoping and praying his answer would be in the affirmative, knowing she wouldn't be able to look his parents in the eye, if he said no.

"Yes Molly," he lied, poker-faced, knowing exactly where her mind was at.

...

Penny and Robert made themselves scarce the following morning. As much as they adored seeing their grandson, they knew it would be easier if Charles introduced Sam to Molly without them being around. Molly stayed home, while Charles went to collect Sam from Rebecca's. She sat in the kitchen, thumbing through a magazine, anxiously watching the clock.

An hour or so later, she heard the front door open. She stood up from the kitchen stool, her heart racing. Taking a deep breath, she made her way out of the kitchen.

"Come on Scamp, let's go find Molly, " Charles said, moving along the hallway towards the kitchen, with Sam in tow.

Molly met them by the drawing room door.

"Sam, this is Molly, remember you met her in the hospital."

Sam eyed her quizzically, then turned to his father, tugging on his trousers. "Dad, she looks different, she doesn't look like a super hero anymore." He sounded and looked a little disappointed.

"Well that's because she's not wearing her uniform now, but trust me she's a super hero all right," Charles winked at Molly and pulled her close, but she broke free from his hold.

She bent down so that she was at Sam's level and smiled at him. "Hello Sam, your dad tells me you're a super hero in training which is just as well because I need a second in command."

Molly had Sam's full attention now, and Charles' for that matter. She whispered to Sam, motioning to Charles behind him, "Evil Captain Stern Face here is trying to take over the world and we need to defeat him." She produced a present she'd been hiding behind her back and gave it to Sam, " I think you might gonna need this." He tore off the paper, his eyes scanning the latest Nerf gun in his hands.

"Wow...this is so cool," Sam beamed at Molly in delight, "Thanks Molly, you're ace." He took hold of Molly's hand and dragged her into the drawing room, closing the door behind them. Armed and dangerous, he was up to the challenge of defeating Captain Stern Face and wanted to talk tactics. A while later, they took up their positions, having passed Charles who'd been waiting patiently in the hallway. As they reached the stairs, he heard Sam whisper, "Molly remember - stay focused, stay alert, stay alive.'

It wasn't long before all three were engaged in the most intensive fire fight of the morning...

"Hold your fire, hold your fire," Sam shouted in the direction of Molly, who was crouched down behind a trunk on the landing. She'd been discharging her firearm onto the floor below, but stopped immediately when ordered. She could hear groaning coming from the hallway.

"Wait out Molly, I'll investigate, cover me," he instructed, motioning her forward towards the top of the stairs. Molly couldn't help but smile. He was sooo Charles. She did as he ordered, crawling across the landing and poking her nerf gun through the banisters. Sam began to creep cautiously down the stairs, his weapon poised, his eye on the sight. Their target, Captain Stern Face, lay spread eagled in the hallway, writhing in agony and clutching his chest. A ring of plastic darts littered the floor around him. His weapon just out of reach.

Sam continued his path, getting closer and closer. All the while, Molly covering from above. Suddenly, Captain Stern Face sprung to life, grabbing his gun. Major Sam, (he'd risen through the ranks quickly during the morning) was on it though. A single shot, blasted through the air, hitting its target clean between the eyes. Stern Face fell backwards and slumped against the wall, 'dead'. 'Blood' splattered everywhere.

"Molly, examine and confirm death," Sam beckoned her to the hallway.

She dutifully followed Sam down the stairs. Kneeling down by the 'enemy', she checked his pulse, confirming death at 1300 hours. The 'enemy' doing his best not to laugh.

"Jackpot Major," she saluted Sam. He returned her smile, beaming - like father, like son. "Come on Molls, our work here is done. Let's go get some scoff," he said, holding her hand again and guiding her to the kitchen.

Later that night.

Charles sat at the bottom of the bed watching Molly pull on one of his t-shirts, knowing that if he had his way, he'd be taking it off in a matter of minutes. As she finished, he took her by the hand and pulled her between his legs, so that she was pressed flush up against him.

"Dawesy, I've a bone to pick with you," he did his best to look fierce, wrapping his arms around her waist, so that she couldn't escape him.

"What's that then Boss?"

"How come you never obeyed my orders in Afghan but today you've obeyed Sam's to the letter?"

"Dunno Boss, maybe his orders made more sense," she shrugged her shoulders at him, smiling mischievously .

He shot her a look.

"Anyway, wouldn't you rather I obeyed your orders at home Boss?" she continued, bending her head to kiss him briefly. He pulled her down onto the bed and flipped her over so that she was under him.

"I reckon you're incapable of following my orders Dawesy." It was a challenge and she knew it. His hand slid under the t-shirt she was wearing and tugged forcefully at her lacy briefs.

"We'll see," she gasped, as he ripped them off and discarded them on the floor. He crushed his mouth to hers and she surrendered to him completely, obeying his orders for the rest of the night.

A/N

Thanks again for the lovely reviews. Hope you like this chapter, although it's all fluff.

Will try some angst in the chapter to follow.


	6. Chapter 6

The next six weeks

Charles and Molly spent as much time together in the next six weeks as his rehab and her army commitments would allow. Either at her home in East Ham or at his family home in Bath. For the most part, they enjoyed just being together again, discovering even more about each other and in Molly's case cementing her friendship with Sam.

Charles met the rest of her family. He bonded with her dad Dave in his local over West Ham's current season, having had a crash course on their performance from Molly the day before. Her mum Belinda, and Marge her nan, were still in awe, declaring Charles, to be a "right officer and a gentleman" and a "good'un." Molly's brothers were equally impressed - Charles being a "well good Lego engineer." Her fourteen year old sister thought he was an awright geeezzaa.

And yet, in that time, it wasn't all plain sailing. At times, Molly's doubts about her being out of Charles' "league" would surface, but he'd tell her and show her how wrong she was. They spent some nights just talking into the early hours; trying to square away what had happened on tour and afterwards. Occasionally, her dreams would mess with her head and she'd wake up crying. Charles would hold her close: murmuring gentle and comforting words; smoothing her hair and stroking her face; whispering over and over how much he loved her - until eventually, she'd fall asleep again in his arms. However, it was his insecurities and jealousy, that she'd seen a glimpse of in Afghan, that almost proved to be their undoing.

One Saturday evening, they met up for a night out in Guildford with some of her friends from basic training. Molly had been looking forward to it for weeks. She hadn't seem them in ages and wanted to find out what they'd all been up to in the interim. The odd communication on Facebook in no way being a substitute for all getting together and sharing stories. Not all of them, had made it through basic. First stop, a pub in Guildford, followed by a nightclub, at the back of the high street, afterwards. Molly had convinced Charles to come along for the ride. He'd been reluctant at first, but her promise of a night in a hotel room afterwards, just the two of them, had finally swayed him. The previous weekend, he'd spent two nights kipping on the sofa at Molly's home in East Ham. They hadn't made love in nearly a fortnight and it was killing him.

When the group arrived at the nightclub, Charles made his way to the bar to get the next round of drinks in while the others secured a couple of tables. Having been served and delivered the drinks, he positioned himself with Molly at the table nearest to the dance floor. She was chatting animatedly to the others; sipping her cocktail and swaying her body in time to the music. He draped his arm across her shoulder possessively and stroked her exposed, soft skin.

The night club was lively: the DJ rockin' it; the music thumping; a crowd gyrating to the beat. Having downed their drinks, the others piled onto the dance floor, laughing and joking, and pulling Molly with them. Molly looked back at Charles beckoning him to join them, but he declined mouthing "maybe later." He wasn't up to dancing, his lower leg giving him grief. He would gladly have skipped the club altogether. As he'd whispered to Molly in the pub, being holed up in a hotel room with her was by far his preferred option - sooner rather than later. But she'd batted her eyelashes, promising she'd make it up to him and he'd acceded to her request. He contented himself with watching her instead; she was totally hypnotic. He sat imagining what he'd do to her later.

The tempo of the music changed and one of the guys, Chris Ingrams, made a bee line for Molly, pulling her close. His hands on her hips, as they swayed rhythmically in time to the music. Charles observed this development. Whilst he didn't like it, Charles wasn't surprised; Ingrams hadn't taken his eyes off Molly all night. Nor could he blame the bloke, she was looking particularly sexy. The little black number she was wearing moulded to her perfectly, showing off her curves and just the right amount of bare skin. Still, Charles looked on unimpressed, nursing his whiskey. He felt a bubble of anger build up inside him, as the bloke leaned into Molly, whispering in her ear. Molly giggled at whatever he'd said and threw her arms around his neck. It was then that Ingrams hands began to wander - all over Molly.

Charles couldn't watch anymore, he felt sick to the stomach. Which was a shame as if he had, he'd have noticed Molly rebuff his advances and give the bloke the brush off. Instead, Charles made his way to the bar getting a refill, then sat drinking it, riddled with jealousy and anger. Molly returned to him moments later, leaning in to plant a peck on his cheek. Again she tried to coax him onto the dance floor but he said he wasn't in the mood and almost turned his back on her. She stayed with him trying her best to make conversation, as he downed the whiskey then another, but he was monosyllabic and curt and wouldn't look at her.

Molly was angry and upset. She couldn't work out what was wrong with him. And, it seemed, he certainly wasn't going to tell her. She cut the evening short, making some excuse to her friends as she hugged and kissed them goodbye. Molly and Charles walked the short distance back to their hotel in stony silence. Despite walking together, they were miles apart; the atmosphere between them awful. When they reached their room, he stood with his back to her staring out of the window, ignoring her. She relented and placed a hand on his arm; she didn't want to go to bed without finding out what was wrong and clearing the air.

"Charles talk to me please..." she said, her voice a low whisper.

He was having none of it, he pushed her hand away and wouldn't even look at her, let alone speak. At that moment, Molly saw red and moved in front of him. She wanted him to, at the very least, acknowledge her.

"What the fuck's up?" she demanded angrily, her hands on her hips, looking up at him.

Charles stood towering over her, rigid with fury. His arms folded, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"You know what Molly," he hissed between clenched teeth, after a while.

"No I don't actually. Just tell me straight up," she cried, incensed by his attitude and in no mood for guessing games.

Charles let rip, his tone low and vicious. "That bloke, Ingrams, was he another of your behind the Indian takeaway conquests, Molly?" Because from where I stood, he looked like he was after seconds and you were only too happy to serve him."

"No, not exactly. More like behind the stores," she was brutally honest and angry, "but you can't have been looking hard enough, because if you had, you'd have seen me telling him to piss off."

Her last words were lost on him, until later. He was too caught up in her admission. "Christ Molly, have you slept your way through most of the ranks of the British Army?" he hurled at her, the whiskey talking. His voice hateful. He knew the moment he said it, that he'd gone way too far. That he was being vile, childish and pathetic. Worst of all, he knew he could never take it back.

His words were poison and she recoiled as if he'd slapped her. Her face bearing a haunted expression, as she looked at him in disbelief. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and began to stream down her cheeks. Without saying anything, she pushed past him, grabbed her overnight bag, and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. He stood staring at the door long after she'd gone, his heart pounding in his chest, knowing he'd potentially made the biggest mistake of his life.

...

A/N Naughty Charles - not wholly convinced he'd act in this way but thought I'd have him behaving badly for once.

Thanks again for your lovely reviews. Let me know your thoughts on this one, thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

Charles sent her several text messages throughout the night. Each one more desperate than the last. Molly ignored each and every one of them. He tried calling her mobile again and again. It just went to voicemail.

He couldn't risk driving anywhere, knowing he was probably over the limit and in no fit state to drive. So he waited out, frantic with worry, and got the earliest train he could into London the next morning.

He turned up on her doorstep at 9am, looking completely crushed. Belinda let him in. She had heard Molly return, in the early hours of the morning, and had known immediately that something was up. Molly hadn't been due to return until Sunday night. Belinda hadn't been able to get any sense out of her daughter but had sat holding her before settling her down in the room she shared with her sister. Now in the morning light, it was obvious to Belinda that neither Molly or Charles had had a wink of sleep and that they'd both spent the night in turmoil. Their eyes were testament to that.

Belinda eventually persuaded Molly to have breakfast with Charles in a cafe down the road. She knew they needed to talk in private and there was no way they could do that at home with Molly's siblings running riot. Charles ordered them both a full English, Molly a mug of tea and himself a coffee. When the order came neither of them could face it. They pushed the food around on their plates before giving up; both too numb from the previous night's events to eat. They sat in silence: Charles rifling his hand through his mop of hair and rubbing the back of his neck; Molly staring out of the window not able to bring herself to look at him.

Several times, Charles opened his mouth as if about to speak, only to close it again. He was acutely aware that she hadn't said a word since they'd left her home. And her lack of 'engagement' terrified him. He'd rather she screamed and shouted at him, hit him, even. Anything but silence. Eventually though, he plucked up the courage.

He took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry Molly. I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again but for now, look at me, hear me out, please," he pleaded, a lump in his throat. She stiffened slightly. He tried to take her hand in his, but she flinched at his touch and pulled away.

"Don't Charles," she choked, forcing back a sob, not really sure whether she wanted to hear what he had to say. She rose shakily to her feet.

He couldn't lose her now. He didn't want to imagine his life without her. He grabbed hold of her wrist, as she moved to leave.

"Molly please..." he urged.

Whether it was the sheer desperation in his voice, images of the love they'd shared over the last few weeks or the thought of her world without him in it that stopped her she didn't know, but she sat back down at the table.

His next words shocked her.

"She had an affair," his voice was strained and husky with emotion.

Molly turned her head to look at him and he fixed his eyes on hers, imploring her to listen.

She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "What?"

"Rebecca, whilst on my second tour, she had an affair with an old University friend of mine."

He had her attention now.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's never seemed relevant to 'us' until now," he said. "But I owe you an explanation for my atrocious behaviour last night."

"Charles..."

"I know it's not an excuse and what I said was unforgivable, but maybe it will go some way to explaining why I'm such a jealous, fucking idiot at times, Molly."

"You're not a ..."

"Our marriage was pretty much over by then and I don't blame her at all. But it's not every day that you surprise your wife by getting home from being on tour slightly earlier than you said you would and finding her in bed with some guy you thought was a mate. He rubbed the back of his neck, then added, "It hurt my pride more than anything but, I guess it's fucked me up when it comes to relationships. As far as you're concerned, I seem to jump to the wrong conclusions far too easily. I know we've both got a past, I'd just rather not meet anymore of yours, especially now that I'm in so deep." He let out a long sigh and continued, "Which I guess makes me a hypocrite, seeing as your path would cross Rebecca's from time to time."

Molly digested his words. Suddenly, everything made sense. The way Charles had reacted when she'd returned from R&R with Smurf, storming off in a huff and not speaking once he'd find out she'd been to Newport. She'd known he was jealous but his behaviour had seemed so irrational, especially given the looks and the conversation they'd shared in the med tent immediately before and after her R&R. Before Kinders had interrupted them twice. It was also now crystal clear as to why he'd behaved so badly the previous night in Guildford.

Charles was gazing down at the table now, seemingly fixated on a water mark. Molly tilted his head up to look at her.

"My past ain't that big and I'm not Rebecca, Charles. And there's only ever been you since you strode out onto the tarmac in Brize last October looking all mean and moody." She half-smiled. "There'll only ever be you for always, if you let me. But you're gonna have to trust me like I have to trust you. Don't push me away, ok?"

Charles nodded his head, unable to speak. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

Finally, he whispered, "I love you so much Molly."

"I love you too Charles. Just don't forget that."

He reached out to take her hand in his and this time she let him. They leaned across the table at the same time and their mouths met. The most tender of kisses, full of love and longing. When they eventually parted, he breathed a huge sigh of relief and thanked his lucky stars, not for the first time, that she was so incredibly forgiving. He proceeded to spend the rest of the day making it up to her.

Late evening - same day

They'd spent the day hopping on and off the tube. He'd taken her sightseeing, though she'd been indignant - it being her home town after all. They'd done a spot of shopping - well he'd indulged her, one of his ways of making it up to her - he'd said. When she'd enquired as to the other ways, he'd grinned and kissed her hard, leaving her breathless and in no doubt as to the other ways. They'd finally had something to eat in the early evening, their appetites having returned - this time, she'd insisted on paying. On their way back to her home, he'd persuaded her to spend the night with him and they'd checked into a local hotel. Not exactly luxurious, but by no means a dive either. She'd phoned her mum and told her she wouldn't be coming home until the morning. And she wasn't due back at base until the Tuesday...

Now they lay naked snuggled together under the covers. She rested her head on his shoulder and he had his arms wrapped around her; neither of them speaking.

Eventually, Charles broke the silence. " I thought I'd lost you last night Molly," he said, honestly and then added, "I don't deserve you. You're..."

She raised herself to look at him and put a finger to his lips, silencing him. A silent tear ran down his face and she brushed it away and then kissed him gently on the lips. They held each other's gaze.

"Maybe we should argue more often Charles," she murmured, after a while.

The thought of it briefly filled him with horror. He didn't want either of them to go through what he'd put them through the night before - ever again. He'd resolved to engage his brain in future before jumping to conclusions.

Her mood was playful though and a smile flickered across his face. "Why's that then Molly?" He had an inkling what was on her mind.

"Well...that make-up sex was amazing," she giggled.

_She was right. It had been fucking awesome. Maybe arguing wasn't so bad after all_.

"What shall we argue about tonight then Molls?" he whispered, biting his lip in anticipation. She declined to answer, content with pressing her mouth to his instead...

A while later

"So did you really fall for me at Brize, Dawesy?" She'd denied it before, but now that she'd alluded to it earlier that day, he wanted to know.

"Well, I guess that depends on what you mean by 'fall' Boss. If you mean, did I fancy the pants of you, then yes. Like I said, you wear the uniform so well. But if you mean falling for you, like thinking about you all the time, butterflies in my stomach every time you came near, wanting to be with you like for always then at the FOB, the night of the duet."

He laughed softly."I knew it!" he sounded triumphant.

"God was I that transparent?" she sounded horrified.

"Well, I seem to remember you couldn't take your eyes off me," he teased.

She blushed.

"No what I mean is. I've loved you way longer," he said smugly.

"Oh really, so when did you know then?"

"Well, you got under my skin at Brize - the girl with the gob and..." she punched his arm hard and he winced, "the face of an angel," he continued. She had the good grace to look ashamed.

"Then you saved Smurf and kept putting yourself in danger, practically giving me a coronary in the process," he whistled softy, just thinking about it. "Then the night before the duet, I gave you the lyrics to learn and you said something about you winning me over with your charm and magnetism. And it home, I knew then that I was totally, utterly and irrevocably in love with you."

"Charles, 24 hours does not count as loving way longer!"

"Molly, are we going to argue about this? Because if we are, you know what that means don't you?" he smirked.

"Definitely and yes," she winked.

...

A/N Thank you again for the reviews.

I know in the TV series there's no mention of Rebecca having an affair, in my OG world she did - can be the only possible explanation for her 'leaving' whilst CJ was on his second tour. - I mean, who wouldn't in their right mind, 'wait out' for him! :)

Let me know your thoughts :)


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N many thanks for the reviews as ever.**

** I haven't written about the background to this chapter but basically there has been a natural disaster overseas and Molly has agreed to volunteer and be part of the relief effort for three weeks. Charles is aware and supports her decision. She then changes her mind...**

**Whilst a three week deployment is probably not realistic at all, it fits in with my other story - Molly was back for Christmas - so 3 weeks it is. Sorry if any lack of realism puts anyone off.)**

Friday 21st November 2014

James' Family Home Bath, 9.30pm

"What the fuck's this Molly?" Charles demanded, looking up at her, as she returned to the drawing room carrying steaming hot drinks for them both. He was sat on the sofa with his laptop. It was obvious he'd been pouring over his emails.

"Oh shit, you've seen it." She placed the drinks down on a side table and turned around to face him.

"Well, if I wasn't supposed to see it, you shouldn't have bloody sent it to me," his voice sarcastic, as he eyed her coldly.

_Fuck, he was angry._

"Well, that was a mistake, ICT weren't my strong point at school. Not sure what was mind. Anyway, you shouldn't have read it," she smiled, trying to lighten his mood.

It didn't work; he purposefully ignored her, placing the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.

"Charles..." she sat down beside him, placing her hand on his thigh.

"So, when were you planning on telling me that you'd changed your mind Molly?" he rounded on her, his eyes a little too hostile for her liking.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, shrugging her shoulders. She locked her eyes on his, then added, quietly determined, "I ain't going Charles."

"Christ Molly," he exhaled, getting up to leave and rubbing the back of his neck. The way he always did when he was angry or upset.

"Charles, don't do this..." she tried to stop him. Too late. He'd turned on his heels and was already striding out of the drawing room into the hallway. She followed behind; only to see him haul on his peacoat, open the front door and step out into the cold night air. The door slammed shut behind him.

She stood in the hallway, debating whether to go after him.

"Molly, everything ok?" She heard Penny, Charles' mum, call. Turning around, she saw Penny in the doorway of the kitchen, a look of concern on her face. Molly couldn't trust herself to speak, but walked back along the hallway into Penny's arms. The two had grown close in such a short space of time. Penny had welcomed Molly into her home and her heart. She loved this exceptional, young woman who'd brought her son back to her and who'd made him smile again. "It's ok. Whatever it is, you'll both work it out," Penny assured her, smoothing Molly's long, silken hair. She led her back into the drawing room, handed her the mug of tea and sat her down on the sofa.

"He just stormed off," Molly muttered, tears of frustration running down her face. She leant forward, her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands, staring ahead at the lit open fire.

"I'm sorry Molly, he's just like his father, it's a family trait I'm afraid," Penny sighed, rubbing Molly's back and shoulders, releasing the tension. "But he absolutely adores you," she added.

Molly turned around and gave a half-smile. "I know and likewise, even though he drives me bleedin' mad at times," she said, then adding by way of explanation, "He won't talk. He just goes off on one." Her accent becoming more pronounced, as she continued, "It ain't the first time, he'd storm off in Afghan too."

Penny reached for Molly and pulled her close; Molly relaxing into her comforting embrace. "He's spent so long in the Army dear and has been on so many tours that he's used to people doing exactly what he says most of the time. It was a bit of a shock for him when Rebecca left, though they'd been unhappy for years, and I'm really not sure he knows what to do with you sometimes." Penny was nothing, if not perceptive. She heard Molly fight back a sob and Penny kissed the top of her head, "Don't worry, he'll be back home in a while, with his tail between his legs."

An hour later

He opened the front door and found his mum in the hallway waiting.

"Charles James, I'm not entirely sure what's gone on between you two tonight but walking out on Molly isn't the answer," she scolded.

He sighed heavily, taking off his coat and hanging it up. "I know mum, I just needed to clear my head."

Penny wasn't having any of it.

"And you thought you'd stomp off and do that, like some sulky, seven year old. Very sensible, Charles! For goodness sake you're a grown man, not a child anymore, so go and fix what ever needs fixing before you lose that girl for good," she indicated to him to go upstairs.

Suitably chastised, he kissed his mum goodnight and climbed the stairs. He made his way to his room and found it in darkness. He switched on the bed-side light, took off his clothes and slid under the duvet. Molly was about as far over her side of the bed as she could get. Her small frame almost lost in the king sized bed. She didn't stir. Making up wasn't going to be easy, but at least she hadn't gone back to London this time. His mind briefly returned to Guildford a few weeks before, when he'd fucked up big time and had really thought he'd lost her forever. Following on from that, he couldn't believe he'd been such an idiot again_. _

_So much for engaging your brain Charles._

He breathed deeply, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her towards him. She was rigid in his arms. "I'm sorry Molls," he said simply. He was met with a wall of stone, cold silence so he turned her round to face him. It was obvious she'd been crying and he inwardly cursed himself for being the cause of her tears yet again. Bending his head, he pressed a tender kiss to each eye as if trying to erase the redness.

"Don't Charles," she said, her voice like ice, as she pushed him away. She rolled over, turning her back to him again,

He sat up in bed, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Molly, I know you're mad at me right now but we need to talk," he urged, looking down at her. She didn't speak.

"Molly please," his voice was pained.

"Well, we could have done that an hour ago, if you hadn't acted like a bleedin' toddler havin' a tantrum," she hissed at him.

He wasn't sure what to say. Despite knowing her for a year or so and sharing the best and the worst of human experience, he still didn't know how to handle her. He doubted he ever would. Christ, he couldn't even handle his own emotions where she was concerned let alone hers. He weighed up his options and took a gamble, deciding to try to inject a little humour into the situation. "What can I say Molls, you bring out the best in me," he said.

She pushed the duvet aside and sat up, crossing her legs, facing him. Her expression unreadable. She scanned his face, his hair was ruffled but the warmth had returned to his eyes and he looked a little sheepish. "That ain't funny," she said, though a half smile betrayed her. "Ok I'm listening and this had better be good, you've got some serious grovelling to do." She folded her arms in front of her chest and raised an eyebrow, looking at him all expectant.

He let out a slow sigh. "Molly, you know that I'll love and adore you for always," he began, his voice now thick with emotion.

"Well that's a start I s'pose." She felt herself welling up again. He pulled her arms apart and took her hands in his, caressing them gently.

"As much as it pains me to say this, I really think you should go."

She shook her head, not convinced. She'd been torn about the whole thing.

He carried on. "You might not get another opportunity again and Smurf was right, you deserve a big life. Remember how you felt when you watched the news on TV. I know how much you want to be part of the relief effort and help those people. Molly, you know I'd come with you if I could."

"But it'll mean three weeks apart and I promised I wouldn't leave you and go overseas for a while. I thought that's what you wanted," she countered.

"What I want Molly is for you to be happy," his voice sounded desperate, "more than anything."

"Charles, I AM happy, you must know that," she insisted, searching his face for some sign that he understood just how she felt.

"Yes, but I wouldn't want you to ever have regrets Molly and like I said, when you came home in October, I don't want to hold you back. Christ Molls I want us to be together forever and if that means I have to let you go sometimes then so be it. And it's three weeks this time not three months. I think I can cope... Just," he laughed at his last comment.

She dropped her gaze and didn't answer. He continued.

"Seriously Molly, I wouldn't want you ever to change for me. You're the most compassionate, caring and forgiving person I've ever met and you're as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. It's a privilege to know you, let alone be able to call you mine. I'm...Molly?" he stopped in full flow, tilting Molly's head upwards. Tears had begun to stream down her face and he pulled her to him, hugging and kissing her until they stopped. "I'm one hell of a lucky bastard. Just be home by Christmas, that's an order," he murmured between kisses.

"Yes Boss," she said, letting him win one more time.

She lay wrapped in his arms, her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He moved slightly beneath her and she raised her head to look at him. He was smiling, the kind that made her insides flip.

"Any chance of some make-up sex Dawesy? he winked and smiled even wider. Ever the optimist, he figured he'd push his luck. After all Lady Luck had been bloody good to him this year.

Her heart skipped a beat. "I thought you'd never ask, Boss," she breathed, as her lips met his.

He took her round the world again, apologising for his 'tantrum' in more ways than one. The king-sized bed creaking louder than ever on the journey.

...

In the kitchen directly below, Penny James was making her husband Robert a cup of tea before bed, as he sat at the island unit reading the day's paper. She moved behind him, wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you hear that? Sounds like he's making it up to her," she giggled. He turned around and winked at his wife. "Hmm, chip off the old block Pen, hey" he smirked, as he pulled her close and kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

The Following Friday - End of November 2014

It was early evening when Molly arrived back in Bath. Charles opened the front door to find her stood before him on the doorstep, dressed in uniform, her kit bag on her back, her hands holding onto the straps. He took in her appearance: her face was pale; her lips tinged blue; her eyes weary. She wore her hair in a French plait pinned to her head, with loose tendrils framing her face, just as she had so often in Afghan. She was rooted to the spot, weighed down by the bergen he realised. She managed a half smile...just.

"Molly, come here," he urged, as he pulled her through the front door. He took the bergen from her shoulders and dumped it down on the floor beside them.

"Why didn't you call me? I'd have picked you up from the station," he murmured softly, a look of concern on his face.

Molly opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She stifled a yawn instead. Charles sat her down on the stairs and knelt down in front of her, removing her cap and boots one by one. He massaged one foot first, then the other, feeling a niggle of guilt. She was on a weekend pass; it being her last weekend, before flying out to aid the relief effort. He'd said he'd go to London, to save her more travelling before going away but she'd been adamant - she'd come to Bath. Her parents had understood she'd said and besides he was due to have Sam on the Sunday. In addition, his parents had gone to Prague for the weekend, so they had the house to themselves for a while. Despite the obvious advantages to being in Bath however, Charles was beginning to wish he'd been insistent about going to London - she looked completely shattered and frozen, as she sat watching him. He spread her thighs apart and moved into the gap he'd made between her legs. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her gently. Her lips were ice-cold.

"Christ Molly, you need warming up," he pulled her to her feet and led her to the drawing room. The open fire was burning and its warmth radiated around the room. Earlier he'd debated about lighting it, as he wasn't planning on them staying in. In the end though, he'd done so, knowing how much she loved the open fire and that she'd appreciate the gesture on his part. Now he was so glad he had, by the looks of her she needed defrosting and fast. He sat her down on the sofa facing the fire and kissed the top of her forehead, "Tea?" he queried. She could only nod as she slumped back down into the comfort of the cushions.

Charles returned moments later to find her curled up on the sofa fast asleep. He set their drinks down on the coffee table and switched the TV on, adjusting the volume downwards. Sitting down beside her, he gently adjusted her position so that her head was in his lap. She didn't stir and he certainly wasn't going to wake her. He sat smoothing her hair and face with his hand, relieved that colour was returning to her cheeks and that she was warmer now. He flicked between the channels, before eventually dozing off himself.

He was awoken, a while later, by the sweetest barrage of kisses. Molly was sat on his lap, a hand tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Charles, you're as bad as me," she whispered against his mouth.

"What time is it Molls?" He murmured, rubbing his eyes.

She glanced at her watch, "Half eight."

"Well that's put paid to our dinner reservation," he half-laughed.

"Shit. I'm sorry Charles," she cast her eyes downwards, feeling bad that she'd messed up his plans for the evening, "Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"Because you were knackered; you were stifling a yawn when you came through the front door Molly,"

He heard her sigh and he tilted her chin upwards, "Molls, it really doesn't matter."

"But..." she opened her mouth to argue. It was futile; she yawned instead. They both laughed.

"Come on Molls," he pulled her to her feet, kissing her briefly. "Get out of this uniform and run yourself a bath. I'll see what I can rustle us up to eat."

Forty minutes later, Molly returned to the kitchen to find Charles standing at the hob, cooking. He glanced over, clocking her appearance again. She was wearing a pair of leggings and one of his sweatshirts; its size dwarfing her, but she looked so much better. Her cheeks had a healthy glow, her lips were rosy and her eyes shone. She'd freed her hair from its braid and it lay in waves past her shoulders, just the way he liked it. He resisted the urge to kiss her and served up the pasta dish he'd been cooking into two bowls. He set them down on the island unit and poured two glasses of white wine, handing one to Molly. He indicated to her to sit down and took his place beside her. "Dig in Molls," he said. She needed no second bidding and tucked into the pasta with gusto. "Mmmm...this is... proper nice ..." she mumbled between mouthfuls, then couldn't resist, "you're gonna make someone a wonderful wife one day Charles."

He raised an eyebrow. "Watch it Dawesy. I may not be your CO anymore, but it wouldn't take much to have you up on a charge." Taking the mick out of her accent, he smirked, "Friends in high places an' all that."

"Really?" she giggled, knowing she wasn't beat. "Not sure you've thought that through Boss." She leaned in, her mouth hovering close to his and continued, her voice softly teasing, "Like you'd really want me, facing a court martial and potentially out of action." She stressed the last word leaving him in no doubt as to exactly what she meant. He groaned, placing a hand on the nape of her neck and kissed her long and hard. "Ok point taken," he murmured eventually, when he let her go.

Sitting in a companionable silence, they carried on eating. Rarely taking their eyes off each other, they smiled every so often between mouthfuls. Eventually, they finished their meal and loaded the dishwasher together. He noticed her yawning again.

"Come on Molls, think it's about time you hit your pit," he stepped towards her and lifted her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her out of the kitchen, along the hallway, to the stairs. He set her down gently and they walked up the stairs together hand in hand to his room.

She was out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow. He spooned himself against her, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her hand in his. He kissed her head gently, murmuring into her hair, "Goodnight Molly Dawes, love you."

She stayed sound asleep for almost twelve hours.

...

Molly found Charles at the island unit in the kitchen the following morning, drinking coffee and reading the day's paper.

He looked up from the paper and smiled at her broadly. "Morning Molls, how are you feeling today? You slept well at least."

She walked towards him, returning his smile. "Much better." She moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck. She leaned in, kissing his cheek, "It's amazing what spending a night with you can do. Not that we did anything mind." She murmured softly, against his ear.

He didn't need reminding. He turned around to face her, pulling her close, so that he was looking directly into her eyes. "Hmm about that, fancy spending some quality time together this morning?... PLEASE," he added, as an afterthought. She was in no doubt as to what he meant, his eyes said it all.

She wriggled out of his hold and ran herself a glass of water from the tap. She sat down beside him and drank steadily. When she'd finished, she set the glass to one side. "Hmm about that," she mimicked his tone, "Can we put it on hold? I really need to shop today."

She almost laughed out loud at the look of horror on his face. "Charles, I leave on Monday, I've gotta put a dent in my Christmas shopping."

"Fine," he muttered, a little too petulantly. He nodded towards the empty glass. "You don't need a brew right now do you," it was a statement not a question - he wasn't interested in any answer. He stood up, grabbed her by the hand and headed out of the kitchen. In the hallway, he threw her coat at her, shoved her bag into her hand and hauled his jacket on, checking for his wallet. When she was ready, he pushed her out of the front door and slammed it shut behind him. She couldn't help but laugh at him. He paused to look at her, "I'm not sure what's so fucking hilarious Molly Dawes." She was still laughing. He wasn't amused. He punished her with a kiss. "The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we'll be home again," he breathed, as he finally dragged his lips from hers.

He set off down the street, pulling her with him.

...

Charles sat in Jacob's Coffee House near the Abbey waiting for Molly. He'd been sitting there for what seemed like forever: indulging in coffee and cake; drumming his fingers on the table and looking at his watch every so often. They'd spent the morning wandering around Bath Christmas market. Molly had been like a child in a sweet shop going from one stall to another, dragging Charles with her. She took great delight in the little log cabins and twinkling lights everywhere and was amazed at the handcrafted items and beautifully wrapped gifts on offer. They'd shared a pancake for lunch and then spent much of the afternoon exploring the shops. Charles had finally set up base in the coffee shop, secretly relieved when Molly had told him to make himself scarce. Every so often, she'd return dumping another bag or two, telling him in no uncertain terms not to peak. He was on his third cup of coffee and second piece of cake, when she walked through the door for the fourth time. He'd given up asking her if she was done, and was surprised and delighted when she plonked herself down on his lap and told him that she was "finished for now." His delight didn't last long.

"You don't mind if I have that brew now do you?" she winked, grinning mischievously and wiping the smile off his face. He placed an arm across her leg, beginning to rub one of her thighs, as her hand delved deep in her bag to find her purse.

"I do actually," he said honestly, sighing a little too loudly, by now in desperate need of their 'quality time.'

"Well I need warming up, it's cold out there."

"Well, that's where I can be of service Molls, IF you'll let me," he whispered seductively into her ear.

She wasn't having any of it.

"Well, I'm sorry. I've got a Geoff Hurst," she said, still ferreting around in her bag.

"What?" His tone, incredulous.

She moaned, "Do you need a bleedin' interpreter Charles? Geoff Hurst - thirst!" She wriggled round on his lap to face him, her movement so not helping.

"You'll be the death of me Molly Dawes," he groaned, reaching into his pocket and handing her a tenner.

"Thanks," she kissed him briefly on the mouth, "D'you want anything?"

He shrugged his shoulders, in mild irritation. "Seems what I want is off the menu for now Dawes," his voice husky. She laughed at him again.

_Christ, she was bloody infuriating!_

He kissed her, teasing her soft lips apart, enjoying the taste and feel of her again. It ended all too soon for his liking. "God Molly," he moaned, when she pulled back.

She slid off his lap to join others waiting in line to be served.

He clocked the size of the queue and his face fell, even further. She almost felt sorry for him. "Good things, come to those who wait Captain James," she threw at him, over her shoulder.

He slumped back in the chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Don't I know it, Molly Dawes, don't I know it!"

...

They finally made it out of the coffee shop an hour later, Molly having had two cups of tea and a slice of cake.

They were laden down with bags, but he stopped her in the street outside anyway, staring down at her, doing his best to look wounded. "Molly Dawes, if I'd known you had such a mean streak, I'd never have allowed myself to fall for you."

"Well maybe in future, you'll let me have a brew in the morning," she said playfully, knowing exactly what he was getting at. His wounded look continued and she took pity on him. She stood on tiptoes to kiss him, "I'll make it up to you later, I promise."

...

It was another half an hour before Charles and Molly made it back to his home. He had left the hall light on and it was now warm and inviting. They stumbled through the front door and he closed it behind them, blocking out the cold night air. They dumped the shopping bags down on the floor and he took his jacket off, hanging it on the bannister. It was then that he practically pounced on Molly, peeling the coat from her shoulders. "Not hungry are you Molls? No Geoff Hurst?" he growled, as he lifted her up, his arms holding onto her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "Well, that depends what's on offer," she giggled, her pulse quickening. He didn't answer, crushing her mouth with his instead. His kisses bruising, punishing.

He staggered backwards with her in his arms, crashing into the wall behind him, his injured leg a little unsteady. She heard him swear under his breath and she wrenched her lips from his. "Come on, I'll make it up to you upstairs," she whispered, scanning his face, dazed by the look of longing she found there.

...

AN Back in 'fluff and banter' territory I'm afraid but I guess that's where I'm comfortable. This is probably the penultimate chapter. I'm almost at the point where Molly goes away again (: and I think I'm running out of steam with this. Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Hope you like this chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

Monday - 1st December 2014 - Brize Norton

Private Molly Dawes and Captain Charles James stopped outside the entrance to the terminal building. He eased her bergen from his back and placed it on the pavement beside him.

"Molly..." He cupped her head in his hands, his eyes roaming her face before gazing into her eyes intensely. "In case I haven't made it clear enough, I want you to spend Christmas in Bath with me and Sam," he paused and took a deep breath, "Oh and the rest of the James rabble." She bit her lip but didn't respond. He continued, sighing slightly, "Molls, after these next few weeks apart, I'm gonna need you 100% by my side."

He was looking at her with such longing that she knew she couldn't say no.

"Ok," she said simply.

"Yes? Really? Christ, that was easy," Charles threw his head back and laughed, clearly relieved. "I thought I was gonna have to win you over with my incredible charm and magnetism," he winked, echoing her words from a previous conversation.

"You did, months ago," she said, then added giggling, "Well them and your low slung combats and..." She ran her eyes downwards, deliberately, all over him, then stood on tiptoes, whispering words into his ear.

He rolled his tongue around his mouth, blushing scarlet.

_Three weeks without her. Fuck._

"Molly Dawes, you're killing me. How am I suppose to survive until Christmas without you?"

"Charles James, that's your bleedin' problem. We've had this conversation before. You insisted I go remember - something about me not having regrets and about you not wanting to hold me back."

He remembered all right. And now the thought of three weeks without her didn't thrill him...at...all.

"Oh yeah. Me trying to do the right thing by you. Next time, I'm so doing the wrong thing," he laughed, but they both knew he didn't mean it. He'd encourage and support her, in whatever she wanted to do. For always.

...

"Boss, there is one condition to me spending Christmas with you."

"What's that Dawesy?" he asked, more out of curiosity than anything. He knew he'd agree to anything she asked him.

"Well..." It was her turn to take a deep breath."If I'm gonna spend Christmas with you, then you're gonna have to spend New Year's Eve in London, with me and my family. Mum will expect it but just so you know, it'll be completely chaotic." She knew she was rambling, but she carried on regardless. "There'll be kids running riot; Nan and me dad will do nothing but argue - well except when dad's drunk too much and is out for the count; mum will be run ragged as usual looking after everyone and you'll have to sleep on the sofa."

He didn't respond, just shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking at the ground.

"Charles..?

He raised his head, shaking it slightly. His face was dead pan. "Well I'm not too sure about that Molly, you're not exactly selling it to me," he lied. He was secretly delighted she'd asked him, but he wasn't about to let her know that - just yet.

It was her turn to stare at the ground. "Well, we could go watch the organised fireworks on the South Bank, if you'd rather I s'pose, though I'm not sure what mum will say," she muttered quietly, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice.

He couldn't help but carry on teasing her, "Hmm I might have to think about it. That bit about sleeping on the sofa, might just be a deal breaker."

"Well maybe..." Her voice trailed off. She raised her head to look at him. He was smiling.

"Molly, I'm joking. I'd love to come," he said, before adding, "besides there are worse places to be holed up I guess!"

She got her own back, kneeing him firmly and taking the smirk off his face. He looked at her in disbelief, wincing in pain. "Molly, are you trying to put me out of action?" he groaned.

She shrugged her shoulders, totally unsympathetic to his 'plight'. "You've three weeks R&R, you'll be fine," she smiled sweetly.

Once he'd recovered his 'composure', he folded his arms across his chest, assuming his Captain Stern Face stance. His eyebrows were drawn in the hint of a frown, his dark eyes boring into hers._ God, how she could lose herself in those eyes_. She committed them to memory, yet again. He angled his face towards her. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch his perfectly chiseled jaw, feel his rough stubble against her fingers and run her thumb across his flawlessly formed lips. She resisted, knowing he was about to launch into a lecture.

"Now Dawes. Listen to me, for once in your life. I know you're not going to a war zone this time, but conditions won't be great, so no doing anything stupid, no heroics. Stay safe - that's an order. I want you home in one piece."

_Three weeks without him. Shit._

She could just about nod. She was close to tears and she knew just what she needed to stop them from falling. He pulled her close, as if on cue, and she stood on tiptoes, winding her arms around his neck.

"Captain Charles James ..." she whispered.

"Yes Private Molly Dawes?"

"Seein' as I'm in uniform right now and you're not, I'm giving the orders here, so shut the fuck up and kiss me."

He did as she ordered, gently at first - his lips soft against hers. She pulled him closer, parting her lips beneath his, wanting, needing more. His tongue plundered her mouth, seeking hers. Kisses now urgent and intense; conveying just how much they'd miss each other.

He tore his mouth from hers, still holding her head in his hands, not wanting to let her go. He rubbed his nose against hers. "Molly Dawes, what will I do without you? " he breathed against her mouth, before resting his forehead against hers.

She felt his hand find hers, entwining his fingers in hers, caressing them gently. "Remind me why you're going again?" he said, his voice husky with emotion.

She couldn't trust herself to answer. Her hand slipped from his and she picked up her bergen. He helped her put it on her back and turned her round to face him. "Molly I ..." she put a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I know," she muttered, tears still threatening to fall. "I'd better go, give Sam a hug from me." He nodded silently.

It took every ounce of strength she had to walk away from him.

...

He stood in the cold, by the perimeter fence, watching the plane take off, taking Molly away from him again. It wasn't until it was out of sight that he turned on his heel and walked slowly back to his car. He sighed heavily knowing it was going to be a long three weeks.

He retrieved his mobile from his pocket and glanced at the screen.

Love you for always. I'll be counting down the days. Mx

He messaged back.

Ditto. Cx

He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, only to pull it out again seconds later. He began to text frantically, it having dawned on him that there'd be hell to pay if he left the message as that.

Sorry - Love & adore you now & forever. Can't wait till we're together again. Cx

...

A/N thank you all again for your kind reviews and suggestions. Nearly done - decided to an epilogue. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter. (Have no idea if Brize Norton would be used to transport the military for this type of operation - so apologies if it is completely wrong.)


	11. Chapter 11

**Epilogue**

22nd December 2014

Captain Charles James had kept himself busy in Private Dawes' absence, sorting out his future in the Army and spending as much time with his son as possible. Despite being occupied, he'd missed Molly like mad, that old adage 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' ringing true. If their separations, had taught him anything, it was that he wanted to be with her, as in 'really be with her' sooner rather than later. He was done with waiting out. If his near death experience in April and Smurf's death since, had taught him anything it was that life and love were so, so special and if you found your moment of happy then you had to reach out, grab it and hold on to it. His life, his love, his happiness comprised Sam and Molly. The love he shared with Molly, was like nothing else he'd ever experienced before, he'd been overwhelmed by the feelings he had for her and he'd never, ever been so happy. She'd taken complete possession of his heart, he was hers forever and he was pretty hopeful that she felt the same way about him. The one tiny niggle he had was that for Molly it might be too much, too soon. He'd managed to put that thought to one side though, his heart over-ruling his head at last, and had spent what seemed like most of the morning in 'the' jewellers in Bath.

...

Brize Norton - 1500 hours

He swung the Audi into the car park, slightly later than he'd intended. There'd been heavy traffic on the M4, and of course, the inevitable time spent in the jewellers earlier hadn't helped. It seemed every Tom, Dick and Harry had the same idea at this time of year. Not only that, Bath had been heaving; people rushing around trying to get organised for Christmas. Still, he shouldn't miss Molly, he reasoned, having figured he'd seen her plane from the main road coming down in to land minutes before. He parked the car in the nearest empty space and hotfooted it towards the terminal entrance**.**

Private Molly Dawes followed the long line of army personnel from the aircraft across the tarmac towards the terminal reception area. She was chatting amiably to Jackie, her friend and colleague from her first tour in Afghan. They'd both been out in Indonesia, working together as part of the relief effort, stationed at the same medical facility. Both being surprised and delighted when they'd bumped into each other on Molly's first day. They'd spent what little free time they had together in each other's company, catching up on each other's news - though in Molly's case not quite sharing everything...

Now as they strolled into the reception area, their kit bags on their backs, Jackie turned to face Molly.

"This bloke of yours, you still haven't told me his name you know, or how you met. Come on Molly Dawes, spill."

"Jack, you're a fine one to talk, you kept your engagement well under wraps." Molly changed the subject swiftly, "You know there's only one thing worse than not having your parents turn up and that's your parents turning up," she joked, expecting to see at least one of them with Marge waiting in the wings. Relatives and friends, some sporting Christmas hats and welcome home banners, stood around waiting for their loved ones. Many were embracing - already reunited. Molly craned her neck, scanning the area, looking for one or both of her parents and Nan. "Or not, as the case maybe," she said to herself, shrugging her shoulders, when she realised they weren't obviously there.

Jackie had already laid eyes on her fiancé Aidan and ran towards him. He lifted her up, twirling her round, then kissed her. Once he put her down, she turned her attentions back to Molly, who by now had plonked herself down on a seat, her bergen on the floor beside her. Molly was rubbing the back of her neck, tired and aching from the flight home.

"Molls, do you need a lift anywhere?" Jackie asked.

"No you're alright Jack, thanks anyway, have a great Christmas." Molly stifled a yawn and stood up to hug her friend.

"You too Molly, let's try and get together between Christmas and New Year," Jackie urged. Molly nodded, smiling, before kissing Jackie on the cheek and then waving at Jackie's fiancé. Jackie returned to him, he picked up her bergen and hoisted it onto his back. They began to make their way towards the exit. It was then that Jackie noticed him, the tall, rather imposing figure of Captain Charles James striding towards them. "Hello Jackie, good to see you," he greeted her warmly, as he reached her. She was pleasantly surprised. "You too Boss, you're looking well. What are you doing here?"

"Thanks Jackie, how was your trip?" he said, neatly evading her question.

"Great thanks, met up with Molly Dawes," she replied. "She's over there."

"Really? Small world hey. Merry Christmas," he gave her a hug, before walking in the direction of Molly.

"Come on Jacks, let's go," Aidan implored, anxious to miss most of the traffic and get his fiancée home again.

Jackie hung back, looking over her shoulder towards Molly, curiosity getting the better of her. "Just a minute," she said.

...

Molly was delving deep into her bergen, scrambling around for her phone. She silently cursed herself for mislaying it. She didn't notice Captain Charles James come up beside her.

"So what's worse than having your boyfriend not turn up, Private Dawes...?" she looked up immediately on hearing his voice. He was smirking, one eyebrow raised. Her jaw dropped open and he continued, teasing, "having your boyfriend turn up?"

She was speechless, his doing yet again. She hadn't been expecting him. In fact he'd told her he'd be working. Now sitting in the empty seat next to her, he was just what she wanted, what she needed to see. She recovered her composure and smiled at him, a smile full of love and joy.

His eyes travelled over her slowly, taking in her features again. Her face was devoid of make up and she looked a little tired, but she was still beautiful, still Molly, still his. He trailed his fingertips down her face, familiarising himself with her soft skin. His thumb caressed her lips gently. _God, he'd missed her...so...so...much._ He lowered his head and kissed her...

They were too wrapped up in each other to notice Jackie hovering nearby, watching with interest.

"Hmm, thought so, not such a dark horse after all Molly Dawes, " Jackie half muttered to herself, the suspicions she'd formulated in Afghan months ago finally confirmed. She couldn't help it, she shouted across to the embracing couple, "Hey Molls, looks like you're in for a lovely Christmas!"

Charles and Molly pulled apart, both looking in Jackie's direction. She was grinning broadly at them. They couldn't help but blush. She winked, linked her arm in her fiancé's and they carried on towards the exit.

"I think we just let the cat completely out the bag Dawesy," Charles said huskily, cradling Molly's face in his hands. "We'll be in for a right ribbing if 2 Section find out, you ok with that?"

She nodded, smiling and pressed her lips to his again.

When they eventually parted, he stood up, pulling her to her feet. He slung her bergen onto his back and took her by the hand, "Let's get out of here," he said, nodding towards the exit.

...

They made their way out of the terminal and walked towards his car, hand in hand, stopping at the rear. He put the bergen down on the ground.

"You've not told me why you're here picking me up, instead of my parents," Molly enquired, smiling up at him.

She was expecting something romantic. She should have known better.

He opened the boot, nodding at the contents.

"I've got most of your Christmas shopping in here Molls. Thought you might want to wrap it before the 25th."

She clocked eyes on it and her face fell. She'd forgotten all about it, too many other things on her mind. Now the last thing she wanted to do was wrap presents, when she got home. Why had she bought so bleedin' much? She looked up at him, he was smirking.

"I'd have wrapped it all for you," he lied, "but you told me no peaking."

"That's not even remotely funny Charles James!" she hissed.

He couldn't help but laugh.

She wasn't amused, in fact, she looked positively mad.

_ Oh shit. _He took a couple of steps backwards.

"Molly ..." he cautioned, shaking his head. "I know we haven't discussed this but - just so you know - I might want to be a father again one day." His warning didn't work, she wasn't taking any prisoners. She moved towards him and raised her knee. He caught it just in time and scooped her up into his arms, "Better luck next time Molls," he said, a little too smugly.

She was, by now, intent on taking the smile of his face. "Ok, let me get this straight - so there's no misunderstanding..." she began, "because let's face it - there were enough of those in Afghan..." she continued. He looked at her confused, wondering where she was headed. It was her turn to go in for the kill. She smiled at him sweetly, before biting on her bottom lip.

"Am I right in thinking you don't want to get laid any time soon?"

She laughed out loud at the look on his face, as realisation dawned. She had him right where she wanted him and they both knew it.

He began to back track quickly. "Molly Dawes, I adore you. You're the love of my life. What I meant was, I couldn't wait out any longer to see you."

She was more than made up. That word again 'adore' - it made her go weak at the knees, sending her mind spiralling back to the FOB when he'd used it for the first time - when she'd begun to allow herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he did have feelings for her. She was damned if she was going to show it on this occasion though. "Charles James, you're gonna have to do better than that," she protested.

A thought crossed his mind. He planted a peck on the tip of her nose, then dumped her unceremoniously back down on the ground. Moving her shopping to one side, he threw her bergen into the boot, then closed the lid.

She placed her hands on her hips and began launching into a tirade. "Boss, the rate you're going you're not even gonna get so much as a..." she stopped abruptly, infuriated, he clearly wasn't listening.

He was indeed ignoring her, it having registered that he just might have the upper hand after all. Raindrops had begun to fall. Seconds later, the heavens opened: rain lashing down; huge puddles forming on the surface of the car park. He moved to the driver's side of the car, jangling his keys at her, a wicked glint in his eye.

"Dawesy, d'you want a lift home or not?"

_Click_. He opened his car door and slid into the driver's seat.

He'd never known her move so fast. She flung open the passenger door, clambered into the seat beside him and slammed the door, shutting out the downpour.

"Cockwomble!" She threw at him trying her best to hide her smile, as he started the engine. He didn't stop laughing, until they were well out of the car park and heading for the A40.

...

They continued to tease each other mercilessly all the way back to her home in East Ham. Neither of them minding, they were looking forward to being together again over Christmas and nothing else mattered.

And if Charles James had his way, their being together at Christmas would pave the way for them being together forever. He merely had to find the right moment to ask her. And if Lady Luck was still smiling on him, then maybe, just maybe, Molly Dawes would say 'Yes'.

...

AN Finito. Sorry about the corny ending, but that's just me. Molly's answer is in the other story I wrote. Had never intended to write more so sorry the stories are back to front. Thank you for the lovely reviews. Hope you like the ending to this one. Not sure if I'll write any more but will never say never. If I did it would be more fluff as I just don't have the fantastic imagination re plots that people have on here.

Anyway many thanks for reading and reviewing.


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